Ice and Wind
by Madhumalati
Summary: Fifty words for Sesshoumaru and Kagura, the pairing that never happened. My take on their relationship. It's my first fanfic! Read and review, please.


**_Ice and Wind: fifty words for Sesshoumaru and Kagura._**

Notes: he's speaking after the events of Wind (i.e. after her death) and she's speaking after she's wounded and before she dies.

Disclaimer: If you think I own Inuyasha, you need your head checked.

_**Ice and Wind: fifty words for Sesshoumaru and Kagura.**_

****

**_#1: Different:_**

One thing I would do differently………take a wild guess. If only I could relive that moment. Jewel shards or no jewel shards, if only I had accepted her offer……….but that thought burns.

I tried to kill him, tried to hire him, and I happen to be his enemy's servant; but still he talks to me, accepts me (and sometimes I could even say, waits for me). Why am I an exception? What makes me different?

**_#2: Leaving:_**

I asked her if she was leaving, and she said soon.

He always left before I did. It had to be my turn sometime.

**_#3: Red: _**

Red is the colour she is in my heart. Defiant, angry, proud, arrogant, hot and passionate as the blood it represents.

I saw his eyes turn red one night, and I couldn't help but wonder…….what it would feel like to know that I had inspired that possessive anger, not his little human girl.

**_#4: White: _**

The feather she flew on was the first thing I'd see – a flash of white against the sky.

They call him assassin, murderer, vicious. But when I see him, I see purity, I see white, not the red of the blood he has spilled; all I see is the silver of his hair.

**_#5: Wind: _**

She was never truly a creature of this world; some part of me knew all along that she would slip through my fingers, dissolve into thin air and leave me bleeding inside like a chilly autumn wind.

I may be the wind, but he is the one who truly loves it. It brushes him softly, and he leans into it when he thinks no one's looking.

**_#6: Freedom:_**

All my life, I kept myself distanced from emotion of any kind, free of attachment and desire. Watching her die…….what a time to realise that that freedom was worth nothing.

In life, I had no freedom. If death is the only way, so be it. I regret nothing that I did of my own will.

**_#7: Love:_**

………..what must not be felt.

……….what was never spoken.

**_#8: Hate:_**

I hate the way she makes me feel.

I hate the life I never had the chance to live.

**_#9: Speak:_**

When she spoke, she spoke with all the feeling in her soul. Whereas I………never spoke at all.

He rarely talks, but his eyes speak for him – whether he knows it or not.

**_#10: Scent:_**

I don't know when I began to wait for her scent to drift across my path, hoping she was spying on me.

I always knew when he had found my scent. His face would lift upwards just a bit, and the closest thing to a smile would cross his features.

**_#11: Feather:_**

After she died, I spent hours tracking down that feather.

The hours I spent flying are the closest I ever was to being free.

**_#12: Sword:_**

What good is a sword of resurrection if it can't resurrect her?

One sword heals and the other destroys; purity and killing held within the same hand. How better to express his contradictory nature?

**_#13: Anger:_**

When she was angry, her eyes sparked and blazed like fire; being ignored or patronised drove her crazy. When I was in the mood, I did that just to see her snap at me.

Honestly, Sesshoumaru. You think I didn't know that?

**_#14: Night: _**

It seems as though we always met at night and alone.

After the first time I saw him by moonlight, hair sparkling, icy golden eyes turned soft amber……. I made sure we did.

**_#15: Serene: _**

As if anything about Kagura could ever be serene.

And he's the image of serenity. Only those who know him well can see it is a mask. Inside, he rages and laughs and cries and feels……..as we all do…….as I do.

**_#16: Laugh: _**

Smirk, chuckle, sneer, giggle, soft laugh, harsh laugh, bitter laugh, sweet…..so many different laughs she had. How many she turned inwards in self-loathing and pain, she never let me know.

He never laughed. But sometimes, rarely, his cold eyes would brighten and crinkle at the edges. That was all, and that was enough.

**_#17: Girl:_**

She never had the chance to be one.

The little one that follows him about. If anyone ever doubted that he has a soft heart…….

**_#18: Without: _**

Without her………who will watch me when I wander in silence and solitude?

Without him………what concrete goal would I have in the perfect life I dreamt of?

**_#19: Know:_**

The first time I saw her, I knew. But I never accepted.

He said he knew it was me, and everything in my vision was white for a second.

**_#20: Puzzle: _**

Every time I thought I had her figured out, she said or did something that turned me inside out. I won't even bother to find out how. What amazes me was that she never did it deliberately.

He's not easy to figure out either. Heh.

**_#21: Star: _**

She made up strange fantastical stories about the stars and what they were, and I would watch her and wonder how someone born from pure evil could ever laugh and talk with such innocence.

He is my star………cool, beautiful and completely out of my reach. But on a few rare occasions, when I sprawled on the grass and he sat gravely beside me, quietly watching the night sky sparkle, I dared to dream.

**_#22: Heart:_**

I look up into the night sky sometimes when I remember her, and wonder which of us was truly heartless.

How you must be laughing, Naraku. Go on and laugh, then, because I know he has mine.

**_#23: Change:_**

Kagura was a creature of change, quicksilver, swift to adapt.

I can almost feel his demeanour change when he's alone.

**_#24: Return: _**

Will you?

**_#25: Fear: _**

When she offered me jewel shards if I killed Naraku, I thought it was fear and treachery that forced her hand. If only I had known.

So afraid of revealing himself; and it wasn't just because of whom I was.

**_#26: Lock:_**

I locked myself away. She had the key.

Telling him would have been the end of us. So I locked my words up in a secret corner of the heart I couldn't possess.

**_#27: Warm:_**

She was fire. How could she not warm my cynical ice?

He only looks like ice. His hand, his face, even his eyes can turn warmer than the spring sun when he chooses to let it show.

**_#28: Smile: _**

She smiled at me before she died, and I had to look away or be blinded.

He smiled for me once, when we were alone. I wish he would do it more often.

**_#29: Twisted: _**

She usually twisted her hair up into a tight bun. For a long time, I didn't even know it reached down to her back. She looked incredibly smug when at my reaction. Told you she enjoys surprising me.

He has the most twisted sense of humour. Really.

**_#30: Past:_**

My father once asked me if I had someone to protect. I envy him. He was never helpless in the face of that someone's death.

What would it be like, to be normal, to live free, to have a past and family? I don't know. The closest thing to family – to history, to any sort of benevolent impact on the world – that I will leave behind…….Sesshoumaru.

**_#31: Flowers: _**

She might have smelled like Naraku, but I know how desperately she anointed herself with crushed flowers and scented oils to remove his stench from her. You little fool. I never thought you were like him.

As I die, there are flowers. And the wind. And him. What more could I want?

**_#32: Dance:_**

She fought like a dancer; slim, graceful, deadly and laughing. And the way she handled her fans………

We danced around each other, advance and retreat, cloaking our words in layers of ambiguity so that each could never be sure what the other meant.

**_#33: Relax:_**

Sesshoumaru relax? Impossible. He's forever waiting for the next threat. Even when he looks half-asleep and lost in thought, he can hear a footstep on the ground a mile away. (Mine, of course. Heh.)

**_#34: Hair: _**

She had the strangest fascination with my hair. She even braided it once.

His hair is the easiest thing to spot from the sky in the night – it glows in the dark. Silver in the moonlight, white by day. He gets rather embarrassed when I talk about it, though. How I love his hair.

**_#35: Song: _**

I hadn't sung in years, but she cajoled and manipulated until I agreed, and listened with full attention for almost an hour as I dredged old melodies up from my memory. The spirits alone know why. The woman was completely tone-deaf.

I didn't need to listen. He needed to sing.

**_#36: Pain: _**

Watching her die, graceful as ever, her fire banked and controlled into something gentle at the end, knowing that all the power in the world and all the strength in my body could do nothing to save her; betrayed by my own sword; revealing nothing as Inuyasha and the others arrived, forcing myself to walk at a steady pace, the feel of the ground under my feet and the wind on my face defining me; keeping me from flying apart as my heart, which I had believed as lost as hers was, broke in a million shattering shards.

**_#37: Watch:_**

She watched me for many days before I chose to acknowledge her presence; even longer before I began to talk to her. Why did she do it? Why choose me? I have no idea.

I was drawn to him immediately, and I watched him every moment I could spare, trying to find out why.

**_#38: Sleep:_**

Does he ever sleep? I've dedicated hours to watching him, waiting for him to fall asleep so I could surprise him. Day, night, it doesn't make a difference. Every time I see Sesshoumaru, he's awake, and most often he's waiting for me. He knows what I'm doing, of course, and he finds it wildly funny that I haven't caught him yet. I swear, that man drives me mad.

**_#39: Tears: _**

I never cry.

I refuse to.

**_#40: Listen: _**

It's unexpectedly soothing to listen to her as she talks about everything and nothing. It fills the silences in my soul.

He's the only person I know who listens when I speak; and I know he listens, and he gives me his time. So what if he doesn't reply most of the time? It shows he cares, and that is enough.

**_#41: Soul:_**

She had no heart, but no one in their right minds would accuse her of having no soul.

He was the first to ever think that.

**_#42: Edge: _**

Her Dance of Blades is devastating. But the look in her eyes and her sharp wit……..that edge is sharper than anything her fan could ever produce.

His claws glint in the sunlight like the edge of a sword.

****

**_#43: Never:_**

I never told her.

****

**_#44: Always: _**

Always. It's that simple.

****

**_#45: Weakness: _**

To work against Naraku, knowing that he could kill her with the flick of a finger, to defy him to his face……..no, she wasn't weak as I thought at first.

So withdrawn, so cold, so afraid to be seen. He thinks that strength is the absence of weakness, not triumph over it. But the best things in life are worth the vulnerability they bring in their wake, worth the pain of losing them. I hope he will learn that someday. I hope my death doesn't destroy that in him.

****

**_#46: Secret: _**

I never admitted it, but she was actually quite funny.

He hates water. It's his best kept secret.

****

**_#47: Tease: _**

She loved to tease me, trying to coax some reaction out of me. I teased her back by not showing any.

And it became a game, trying to see who would crack first. And sometimes he would cast a fleeting look my way that revealed his amusement to me without his having to say anything; his unspoken encouragement.

****

**_#48: Fighter:_**

I may be the better fighter by far, but I cannot take pleasure in it; battle doesn't thrill me the way it thrills her.

Lightning-quick, brutal, efficient………but elegant and refined at the same time, turning combat into an art form. There is so much beauty in the movement that I can almost forget its purpose – to deliver death. My Killing Perfection.

****

**_#49: Quiet:_**

A few times, I saw Kagura in a quiet, almost melancholy mood. It was the only quirk she had that I never understood, and though I didn't tell her so, it made me uncomfortable.

Over the weeks, I learned the different shades of his silence. The detached stillness with which he fought; the vicious, the discipline with which he forced emotion from his mind; the contemplative tranquillity with which he stargazed; the wordless humour with which he watched me when I was angry; and, best of all, the subtle peace I could feel in him when he rested his back against mine and we sat together in companionable quiet.

****

**_#50: Wait: _**

As long as it takes.

Until we meet again.


End file.
